


Joanna, age 5

by aliveanddrunkonsunlight



Series: drunk on sunlight [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jaime is soft, Joanna Lannister of Tarth, Tarth, Tarth series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 00:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveanddrunkonsunlight/pseuds/aliveanddrunkonsunlight
Summary: a series of ficlets set on Tarth, featuring Jaime, Brienne, and their future children*“Mama, tell me about the bear.”





	Joanna, age 5

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: These Tarth ficlets have no bearing on one another. In general, they are not all of the same universe, so keep that in mind while reading.

“Mama, tell me about the bear.”  


“The bear? What about a new story?” Brienne knows Jaime has told their daughter this story countless times.

“No,” Joanna shakes her blonde curls emphatically. “That one.”

“All right.” Brienne tucks Joanna in and sits on the side of her bed as she smooths her daughter’s hair. 

“A long time ago, there was a woman-”

“It was you, mama,” Joanna giggles.  


Brienne smiles. “You’re so smart, Jo.” And she starts again, “A long time ago, a woman named Brienne of Tarth was captured by some evil men.” 

“You  _ and _ papa.”

“Yes, we both were. But the men let your father go. And they put me in a pit with a bear. I had only a tourney sword for protection.” Jo is frowning. “Do you know what a tourney sword is, little one?”  


“It’s wood. No pointy end.” Jaime made Jo a wooden sword for her last birthday because she kept trying to lift Jaime’s when he took her to the practice yard.  


“That’s right.”  


Jo was still frowning. She looks so much like her father when she’s upset or confused. “But mama, where was papa? In the pit with you?”

“No, not yet.”  


“No,” Joanna puts her hand on Brienne’s arm, her jaw set in the same stubborn way as Jaime’s. “Papa was in the pit with the bear. He told me. You  _ saved _ him.”  


Brienne doesn’t correct her daughter. “Do you want to tell me the story?”  


“Yes!” Jo sits up, clearly excited to tell the story the right way. Brienne laughs and lays down next to her daughter, listening as Joanna tells her about Jaime in the pit and how a brave warrior, ”that’s you, mama!” had come to save him.  


“A very good story.” Brienne says when she’s finished. Joanna smiles but her eyes are growing heavy and she fights off a yawn. “Good night, darling.” She presses a gentle kiss to Joanna’s forehead and goes off to find her husband.  


Jaime is sitting in the library, their favorite spot in the evenings, with a fire crackling and a pitcher of wine. He looks up when she comes in, an easy smile pulling at his cheeks. “Joanna asleep?”  


Brienne takes his wine glass, stealing a sip for herself as she takes a seat next to him. “Have you been telling our daughter that I saved you from the bear pit?”  


He looks sheepish and if Brienne didn’t know him better, she would think he was blushing, but she’s the one whose cheeks and chest always flush. Jaime is usually the one who smiles at her cockily, even when he’s done something wrong. “Jaime! You cannot lie to our child. She’s only five, she’ll believe whatever you tell her.”  


“I wanted her to know she doesn’t need a man to save her, gods forbid. She can save herself.” Brienne studies the outline of her husband in the firelight. “Besides, she should know her mother is a warrior. The bravest woman I ever met. And you would have saved me,” he says, rising from his chair and reaching for her hand. She stands and he pulls her into him, his arm wrapping around her waist. “If the situation was reversed.”

“But it wasn’t,” she points out stubbornly. “And you saved me.”  


“Because I loved you,” he says simply. Even after all their years of marriage, sometimes she feels guilty because it’s so easy for Jaime to declare his love for her, whether it’s in words or actions or affection, and she still feels like a bumbling fool, unable to express the depth of her feeling for him.   


Her cheeks are warm and it’s not the firelight, but the way he’s looking at her. “Liar.” Her voice is soft, nearly a whisper.  


“It’s not a lie,” he replies. “I did. In some way, deep down, even though I would have been loathe to admit it.”  


“I love you, Jaime Lannister.” She reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “Even when you tell our daughter lies. Maybe especially then.”  


He laughs and kisses her, both of them forgetting about the fire and the wine. 


End file.
